Some Infinities
by define-serenity
Summary: [Sebastian/Blaine] "I'm in love with you," Sebastian says quietly. "I am. I'm in love with you. And I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying things that are true." (FAULT IN OUR STARS AU)


written for Seblaine Week 2015, prompt: book au. sort of a _The Fault in our Stars_ au, i am so fucking sorry. some of the dialogue/themes/ideas adapted from the book.

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 _ **Some Infinities**_

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"I'm in love with you," Sebastian says quietly.

His heart stutters around the simple phrase, the awful phrase, the five most terrifying words Sebastian could ever say. Yet they brush along his skin and catch in his pores, steadily injecting into his bloodstream like a truth made its own.

"Sebastian–" he says, though was he means to say he could never say.

"I am," Sebastian adds, "I'm in love with you."

He knows. He's known it for much longer than that night Sebastian sat reading to him at the hospital, when he'd opened his eyes and found Sebastian hunched over his favorite poetry book; he'd yawned as sleep lured him away, pinched his own cheeks to stay awake, and struggled through the thick prose.

Blaine had fallen in love the way people fall asleep. Slowly, at first, with the gentle promise of dreams infused along his temples; then, all at once.

That was weeks ago.

Sebastian hadn't stopped looking at him since the moment they met in Support Group, a group they've both woefully neglected for months in favor of spending time together. Green eyes found him time and time again, even when Sebastian wasn't really looking.

"I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying things that are true," Sebastian says, propped up on an elbow next to him on the bed, whatever movie they'd started long faded into white noise. "Not anymore."

Things weren't complicated. Sebastian loved him and he'd long since accepted he wouldn't love another boy like he loved Sebastian, but the sad fact of the matter was he would never find the time to love anyone else. There's this thing inside him called cancer, and it's slowly choking him to death. He'd been lucky so far, in the grander scheme of things; the doctors' miracle drug kept the tumors in his lungs at bay but the future didn't paint a pretty picture for him. The drug would lose its effect over time.

He'd more than likely never go to college, let alone finish, he'd never get to live his dream of being a big Broadway star. He'd never settle down, never have a family of his own, never die of old age.

There simply wasn't enough time.

Sebastian sidles to the side of the bed, turning his back before he speaks again. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but I want you to know I'm not going anywhere."

He knows that, too. Sebastian hasn't backed down once, he's been his constant companion for about three months now and he couldn't imagine life without him. They've laughed together, and cried, contemplated the point of teenagers dying of cancer after some drive-by pastor preached the merits of faith to him. Sebastian has been open and honest, flirtation in his every syllable–

But Sebastian had lost a boyfriend to cancer before. He'd been by Hunter's side every minute of every day before and after the surgery, during the chemo, even when the tumor growing inside Hunter's brain started taking away his memories. Sebastian doesn't talk about it, not even when he asks, because the heartbreak of watching someone he loved fading away for absolutely no goddamn reason left a scar too deep.

The inevitability of that happening again, of putting Sebastian through the same thing keeps him up at night, leaves him tossing and turning until well past midnight and sheer exhaustion puts him to sleep. He's a grenade, and one day his body will pull the pin and he'll blow up. He won't allow Sebastian to be a casualty in the war his body's waging on him. He can't change the fact that he has cancer, he can't run from his parents and stop them from becoming victims. But he can stop Sebastian from getting too close.

"I like you and–" Sebastian sighs, voice heavy with a sentiment close to frustration. This marvelous boy has always been honest with him, sometimes brutally so, but something in his voice now, an almost defeat, that's new. "I love you, and if that's the only thing about me anyone ever remembers I'm okay with that."

He can't mean that, he thinks, Sebastian has this weirdly specific obsession with leaving a mark on the universe, to leave behind traces of Sebastian Smythe so that people in the future might know _he was there_ , _he was alive_ , death just got in the way before he could do anything more significant, that's all. They'd fought about it; this incessant need on Sebastian's part made him forget _he was right there_ , _living just then_ , and in the wake of everything he'd been through he shouldn't pass up any infinity, no matter how big or small.

They'd lived so many moments of these past few months together. They'd lived so loud and so immediate that sometimes he forgot death nipped at his heels.

What kind of person would he be if he let Sebastian fall in love with him?

"You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world." Sebastian glances back over his shoulder, his body making a half turn so those green eyes can pinpoint his location once again, one too many times, because tears now sting behind his eyes. "But I do get to choose who hurts me. And it's a privilege, Blaine Anderson."

His nasal cannula provides a steady flow of oxygen, but the air grows thinner, his throat closes up a little, and his chest grows smaller. "Sebastian–"

He won't say it. He can't say it. He drowns where he sits on the bed, not in his poor excuses for lungs for a change but in the mere presence of Sebastian Smythe, the first and only boy he'll ever love.

"I know, Blaine." Sebastian nods solemnly. "But I stand by my choices."

There are times he wishes Sebastian's choices didn't include him, that they could have passed each other like planes in the night rather than become twin stars in the night sky. Because Sebastian doesn't move, and he knows he won't leave until his mom comes in to remind them of the time.

Time has taken on less meaning since he met Sebastian.

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Few traces of the previous night's conversation remain as they explore New York the next day, though he can track its outlines in the way he now finds himself looking at Sebastian, ever vigilant of any hints of closeness. Sebastian's love for him comprises a subtlety many would miss, the wayward glances, the touch of a smile at a corner of his mouth, as well as a forthright honesty that heats his cheeks, a well-balanced duality.

They travel by car most of the day, a sleek black town car that glides through the city, the subway steps too exhausting for him to climb up and down even if Sebastian were to carry his oxygen tank. Sebastian and the Genies laid out a surprise route, but he's not at all surprised when their first stop is the famous Tiffany's, and there's a small table set up for them with coffee and donuts. It's no secret he's obsessed with everything New York, from the glamorous movies of the sixties, to the fashion, to the Broadway stages; Sebastian sought to make his dreams a reality. He'd wasted his own Make-A-Wish on Disneyland when he was thirteen years old, before the cancer metastasized to his lungs and he still imagined a hopeful outcome.

Sebastian, it turned out, had saved his wish all these years, and fought to share it with him.

After Tiffany's they take in some of the sights; neither of them has the strength to visit any museums, so they make pit stops wherever they can think of; Washington Square Park, Rockefeller, the Staten Island Ferry, Strawberry Fields in Central Park. They eat again at Serendipity, their lunch the famous Frrrozen Hot Chocolate. The magic of the city infects them both, and for hours and hours on end Sebastian keeps a promise he'd made the moment he'd passed his Wish onto him; they wouldn't think about oblivion, about life ending or the inevitability of death. They'd be Blaine and Sebastian, two healthy teenagers out in New York, a promising future ahead, a positive take on life.

Tomorrow night they'd be seeing _Wicked_ on Broadway, a lifelong dream now within reach, but they visit the Gershwin Theatre today while it's still empty. He needs some deep breaths to climb the steps, but soon he's center stage in a place he's only ever seen in pictures and bootleg videos, playing behind his eyelids in his sleep, the setting of so many daydreams that it threatens the tear him apart. It's an almost cruel thing, to be so close to a dream he knows he'll never get to live. He hasn't been able to really sing for years.

"You okay?" Sebastian asks, the warmth of his body close and comforting, a subtle offense in this all out war.

And instead of _their thing_ , instead of saying "Okay," he simply nods, paralyzed by the fact that in the midst of all he'll never have, all he'll probably never see again, all he'll never achieve, there's one thing standing right in front of him he could have.

He can spend the rest of his life with Sebastian.

He loves Sebastian. Maybe he hasn't known it as long as Sebastian has, maybe he hadn't fully accepted it until right this second, but in this moment, in this infinity upon all the other infinities they've lived today he does know. He loves Sebastian so much it hurts, so much that it's harder to breathe around him, but that's a sacrifice he gladly makes each and every day. Sebastian's here for him and he'll never leave.

So he trips a step closer, uses the oxygen tank as a cane to reach about an inch higher and pushes his lips to Sebastian's, kiss him with all the life left in him, because tomorrow it could all be over. Sebastian cups his face and lets him sink back down, accounting for their height difference while deepening the kiss, a kiss that frees up his lungs, a kiss that lasts forever, starting an infinity inside their perfect little infinity.

"I love you, Sebastian," he whispers, a hand over Sebastian's heart.

Sebastian grins crookedly. "I know."

An hour later they stumble into Sebastian's hotel room; his mom's out exploring the city but he wants to avoid the possibility of getting caught, and they don't have any time to waste. Their jackets fall to the ground, their lips never once disconnecting. This is the first boy he ever kissed, the only boy he ever will, and he can't figure out how other people ever manage to extricate themselves from this; he could kiss these lips forever and die happy.

They sink down on the bed together, his knees planted either side of Sebastian, and he sighs into Sebastian's mouth, the warm mass of him between his legs reassuring in ways he scarcely could've imagined. His heart knocks at his rib cage, his head light, fingertips slowly whisking the buttons on Sebastian's shirt through their holes.

Sebastian is beautiful. From the freckles dusted all over his torso to the defined muscles he can't believe this boy wants to be his, that they share something so precious it can't be anything but fragile. He captures Sebastian's lips again, his bottom lip swelling where Sebastian sucks at it slightly, tongue teasing over the bruised skin.

"There's a scar," Sebastian says softly, pulling back a little.

"What?"

"My leg." Sebastian swallows hard. "There's a scar above where my knee used to–"

Sebastian's breath hitches as his fingers shake around his belt buckle, trembling all over as he loosens the belt, the button below, and unzips Sebastian's jeans. They know where each other's scars are located; just because Sebastian's are visible doesn't mean he'll be scared away. He scoots back to strip Sebastian out of his pants, revealing his prosthetic. His fingers slide over the plastic and metal contraption, soon lowered to the floor after Sebastian undoes the straps.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

He reaches for the stump, trailing his fingers over the thick scarred skin.

"I'm starting to think you have an amputee fetish."

He silences Sebastian with a kiss, and another, and another one as he straddles his hips again, removing his cannula so Sebastian can strip him out of his shirt. He shudders once he's naked, until Sebastian strokes at his cheek, kisses right next to his lips, breathes him in like he needs the oxygen too. Sebastian rolls his hips beneath him, the base of his spine igniting with tiny pinpricks, a hunger stirring deep inside.

"I–" He laughs breathlessly against Sebastian's mouth. "I can't breathe."

Sebastian grabs the plastic tubing and strings it back behind his ears, carding fingers through his hair. "You're so beautiful."

He touches his fingers to Sebastian's lips, along his jawline, down his neck, memorizing every freckle, every rough patch of skin, every soft and lovely part only his eyes touched before. "I love you, Sebastian Smythe," he whispers, so low the stars themselves couldn't fathom their presence.

"I love you too, Blaine Anderson," Sebastian breathes equally soft, before pulling him down into a kiss.

It isn't anything like he imagined it would be, not overtly passionate or sweaty, not scream-worthy or painful. If anything it's slow and quiet and patient, Sebastian's fingers inside him a silent burn soon replaced by a pleasure he's never experienced before. They traverse every part of each other, lips chase after fingers and he whimpers and moans, underneath Sebastian, on top of Sebastian, whatever works to fit their bodies together.

It's the longest they've been together without one of them talking.

Afterwards, as they lie facing each other in the bed, their legs tangled underneath the sheets, he can't figure out why he ever tried to keep Sebastian at arm's length. He's loved Sebastian for a long time, and Sebastian made his choices; he can't make Sebastian _un_ love him anymore than he could stop himself from loving Sebastian. If this is all the time they have left, if this is all the time afforded them, he will live every single infinity to the fullest.

"I'm sorry it took me this long," he says softly, unable to stop his fingertips dancing down Sebastian's chest.

"Don't be," Sebastian's voice rumbles. "Like I said. I like my choices."

He smiles as Sebastian kisses him again.

He likes his choices too.

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 **fin**

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End file.
